Did you know he loved me? I doubt it even crossed your mind. No one in the park would have known either, only seeing love spread out on a blanket along with champagne and my favourite chocolates. He never had much imagination.
As I sat watching you I saw your trick. A clever trick of youth that I can never compete with. I have long since worn the invisible cloak of fortyhood – lost to all in a kind of sexless fog. He felt the touch of that fog too and went looking for you.
Your theft has gifted me dark glasses and a park bench, and denied me a security that was mine by rights. I watched your lying eyes and know clearly now that you never intended to involve your heart.
In a few weeks, months, you will grow tired of your prize, discarding him for the piercings and tattoos that are age appropriate. He will look back then, realising that the bulge in his trousers has let him down badly and he will come for me. And there I will be. In the farthest corner of the darkness night he will find me waiting for him, ready to spit in his eye.
Kate Bousfield is the author of Coven of One. She blogs here.